


Bandages and Aspirin

by Hawk (Hawk87)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: 1940s, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Fluff and Angst, Historical Inaccuracy, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sick Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:08:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25339642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hawk87/pseuds/Hawk
Summary: It had taken two years for Bucky to save up the money, wanting only the best for Steve… He’d wanted it to be so breath-taking that Steve wouldn't even think of saying no to the madness. Bucky had dreamt of the moment for so long that he truly believed that it would have ended with him on one knee…
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 5
Kudos: 49





	Bandages and Aspirin

**Author's Note:**

> Rewrite of my old orphaned piece (The Cost of Aspirin).

At age ten, Bucky Barnes had fallen in love for the very first time. It wasn’t the sickly sweet, puppy love kind of affection that in his older years he might have come to laugh at or find adorable in a child of his age but a real love that stopped his heart in its rhythm and gave him dry mouth. It was the kind of irrevocable fondness that had his feet feel as though the ground was both non-existent and all-consuming. It could swallow him up and spit him back out again and he would have thanked it if only it would drop him at the doorstep of his beloved. She was everything that ten-year-old Bucky had dreamt of; his wildest dreams met in her curves and sense of adventure… Her picture had hung pride of place in his bedroom from the day he first caught sight of her, his pocket money spent on the newspaper that day just so that he might read all that there was to know. Her name was the Coney Island Cyclone. She opened her rails to the public in 1927, after replacing the Giant Racer, and she stood at a magnificent 85 feet tall… Far too tall for Bucky’s short frame to be allowed to ride even if he had not given his allowance to a mere photograph of the coaster. 

At age thirteen, Bucky Barnes had fallen in love again. With a pocket full of change from his work as a paperboy and a stature that finally met the requirement, Bucky was going to ride the coaster until he puked. The excitement tasted like corn dogs and cotton candy on the breeze and his throat stung from the imagined sugar. The wooden coaster was in sight when he heard a clang from the alley he’d just passed, causing him to pause. He could have walked away; it wasn’t his business if some punk was getting his ass handed to him, right? But he was drawn in, watching three older teens running from the scene. It was in that alleyway that Bucky fell for the scrappy, blond spitfire shouting, “Yeah, you’d better run!” 

Bucky spent the change in his pocket on bandages and aspirin. 

At age nineteen, Bucky had ridden the Cyclone with Steve more times than he was able to count. In the early days, he had saved up money from that paper round, changing his plans of riding all day for a single go on the rails with Steve. As they grew older, he had worked two jobs and they were able to make an evening of it, even taking their respective dates with them… Their cover stories before they would return home and wipe the grease of the theme park from their bodies together. 

The Cyclone had taught Bucky a number of things over the years; the perfect metaphor for life… A person could stay on the ride and learn to anticipate each twist and turn of the rails, ready for them every time and still feel the anticipation of impending dread as the coaster climbed to another peak, ready to send the rider into a tailspin of loops that sickened them to the core. Life had thrown a number of twists and loops at the couple over the years… Two men who, in the eyes of society, needed to be fixed, putting the pieces of their lives back together in their own way. Steve’s mother died that year and Bucky moved in. He had made a promise to him then… “I’m with you ‘til the end of the line, Pal.” 

At ate twenty-four, Bucky’s number had come up. The world was at war and like any able-bodied man, Bucky’s name went to the draft. His fist tightened around the piece of paper that bore his name and his contract to Uncle Sam. Death was an inevitable consequence of life; the end of the ride when he hadn’t the twenty-five cents to get back on the coaster. Bucky was not afraid of it; he had seen his own parents die, he had known the aftermath of Steve’s mother and now he was set to see many a good man give their time to the freedom of the world… Bucky was not afraid of death. At least… he wasn’t afraid of his own.

Steve had been bedridden with fever for two weeks now; his body was more fragile than he had ever seen it to be, the weight falling from brittle bones, his spine in agony from the bed and his scoliosis and his brow beaded with sweat faster than Bucky could stand to wipe it away. The world was unjust; this man that he loved was the hero here. Steve had told him time and time again that when the call came, he would be the first in line to stop those German bullies… Now the time had come, and his ailments had not only skipped the draft but banned him from signing up in their state. Bucky could not say that he wasn’t relieved; the thought of losing him out there was something he could do without. Steve, though a force to be met, could be blown over by the wind and was better suited to an armour of tissue wrapping than fatigues. 

“Gonna be okay, Steve. Never lied to ya, have I?” Bucky leaned down to kiss his dry lips so as to hide the doubt in his eyes. Bucky pulled most of their wages, always had, working two jobs to get by and bring home the medicines that Steve needed to get through each day. How would Steve afford it without him? How would he pay the rent? No, Bucky wasn’t afraid of his own demise… He was afraid that he would live and return to a home that had not seen Steve since his first Winter alone… “You think you’ll be alright for a little while? We’re outta sugar…” He moped his brow again and waited for the affirmative before slipping out into the season’s first snow. 

Bucky knew that it was unfair of him to have so little faith… to be burdened by such fear. Steve was not a man who had ever given up on anything, much less given up on himself… But Bucky had always been here. He had loved him from being thirteen and he could not leave without doing something. 

Trudging across the snow of the too-quiet Brooklyn street, Bucky toyed with the ring in his pocket, his fractured heart in his throat as he prepared himself for the drop of the coaster. It had been a foolish idea, he knew, to even buy it in the first place, knowing how others would look upon them but two men wearing rings… he’d thought no one might question to whom they were married, and they could always lie. He had thought a private ceremony in their own living room, attended only by themselves, catered by his attempts in the kitchen and their first dance would be to whatever new jazz number Steve had taken a fancy for that week… it was all meant to be a private joke between them, a silent acceptance that they were meant to be. But now… Well, Steve would never find out about his silly little plan. The ring had a more important task to achieve than some false nuptials. 

It had taken two years for Bucky to save up the money, wanting only the best for Steve… He’d wanted it to be so breath-taking that Steve wouldn't even think of saying no to the madness. Bucky had dreamt of the moment for so long that he truly believed that it would have ended with him on one knee… Not in the line of a pawn shop. 

“I’m back, Pal.” 

Steve opened his eyes slowly, his lips pulled into a tired but easy smile. Bucky wiped his brow once more, placing the money down on the bedside table. Whatever happened now… Steve would have enough to pay the rent, to get medicine enough to get better and find his way to still be here if… when Bucky returned. He could feel the rail car on the edge still… Still waiting for the freefall only now there was no way down but… well, down. In front of him was Steve, fighting an illness he’d now survive at least until it struck again and behind, his beloved coaster was on fire, burning as the war licked at his heels leave. 

“You rob a pawn shop or something?” Steve teased, shifting to force himself up, while Bucky’s hands eased to his shoulders to guide him back down, palm moving to caress his cheek gently. A ring was no comparison to the good he had done. His disappointment was selfish and their time… their time would surely come. He would return someday. He would begin to save again, try again... “Better not have done anything stupid to get that. Last thing I need is you leaving me with trouble.” 

“How could I? You’ll find that all on your own.”


End file.
